


Like Smoke in Mirrors

by ruination_fangs



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26804698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruination_fangs/pseuds/ruination_fangs
Summary: "To me, Celty, you have infinite possibilities. Even if we were born in different places and at different times, I'm sure we would have met through a different situation. I want to experience every possibility that I can with you!"Possibility 1: Zombie Outbreak
Relationships: Kishitani Shinra/Celty Sturluson
Kudos: 1





	Like Smoke in Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

> did anyone else hear that and feel like they were just asking us to write all the AUs? I know AU challenges exist, and I especially like the idea because the alternate settings make it easy to keep the fun parts of the relationship but also make it... healthier, which makes me enjoy it even more!
> 
> that said, I fell away from this fandom pretty quickly so I probably won't finish any more than this one... oops

Shinra is too young to remember the Breakout very clearly. He recollects it mostly as a concept, supplemented with occasional snapshots - the strained voices of news hosts reporting the spread of cases to new cities, his father receiving a lot of phone calls, streets that used to be peaceful suddenly littered with broken glass, gunshots and screams that stirred no alarm anymore. It must have been a slow descent, from the initial victims to the widespread disaster it became, but there's so little "before" to think back on that the "after" almost feels normal.

Especially because Celty has been a part of the entire "after." If there's one thing he does clearly remember, it's the day he found her, sheltering in a deserted parking garage while fleeing from a local horde. When he saw her there among the abandoned cars and motorcycles, manipulating shadows and completely lacking a head, he could tell right away that she wasn't infected. Something about the black smoke rising from her neck and dissipating into the air seemed natural, none of the stunted and rotten aura that surrounds the zombies. At the least, a headless woman was not the strangest thing he had ever seen.

But it was the most fascinating, and he was overjoyed when his father convinced her to join them. She certainly didn't need much help protecting herself from the zombies, but in the world's current trigger-happy state, the infected humans weren't the only ones she needed to worry about.

Twenty summers and twenty winters have passed since then, and even in this barren, wasted city, Shinra could say he's been blessed.

"Celllltyyyyy!" he calls down the street. "Where did you go?!"

A clunking sound on the other side of a broken-down wall is his only answer. He lightly trots over and peers in through the empty frame of a window, only to suddenly find himself face to helmet with Celty as she stands up. He smiles; she holds up her notepad.

_"don't yell. we don't need them to know we're here."_

"'Them' who?" Shinra asks, leaning in through the window. "It's been two days since we got here and we haven't seen anyone. I think we're alone."

Celty just resumes digging through the pile of rubble on the floor.

"Find anything good yet?"

Her helmet turns side to side. Shinra leans back against the window frame, gazing up at the sky. A few white clouds hang motionless against a blue backdrop, perhaps the only scenery on earth that hasn't drastically changed in the last two decades.

"Oh well. Guess this area's already been looted. Kind of weird, this far out, but..."

He looks down the street, at the faded lines on the cracked pavement and the weeds growing up around the dusty buildings. Judging by the general state of disrepair, this was probably one of the earlier cities lost in the panic of the first infections, when the residents either fought or fled. Either way most of their possessions were left behind to be scavenged in the following years, dug out by crews from the remaining human colonies or lone travelers trying to survive. 

It's not uncommon by any stretch, but Shinra had thought they were still out of the range of normal scavenging. There's only so far one can go before they run out of food or gas - or run into a horde - and have to return to a real city to stock up again. It's only by virtue of Celty's amazing powers that they can come this far. With no need for food or clothing or gas for her "motorcycle," and with little trouble fighting off the zombies even without a weapon, she could probably go on for years by herself.

Luckily for Shinra, she's too kind to leave him behind, even if it means lugging his pitiful human body around with her. She said it was a win-win, because she gets to search for her missing head, and he gets to fulfill his doctorly duty looking for stragglers who might need help - though after this many years there's not many stragglers left. 

He wonders if she's realized yet that that was never his real motivation for asking to go with her.

The sound of loose bricks hitting the ground distracts him from his thoughts. Celty climbs nimbly through the window, holding out a long piece of blue fabric - probably the remains of a curtain.

"That's it?" Shinra says, turning it over in his hands. It's not much, but it's still mostly intact, and could be repurposed. Fabric isn't as ubiquitous as it used to be. "Yeah, other scavs have definitely been here. Do you think there's another city nearby, closer than the one we just left?"

Celty procures her pencil from her sleeve and turns a new page in her notepad.

_"I don't know. it could just be other long-range travelers, like those guys in the van."_

"Yeah, I guess..."

It wouldn't surprise Shinra if it _was_ the guys in the van. Somehow the four of them had managed to cram an obscene amount of supplies into and on top of their vehicle, including enough extra gas to take them farther than most non-professionals, and they still had room to pick up whatever weird treasures they were collecting. Celty had remarked later that they seemed way too into the whole zombie apocalypse aesthetic, and Shinra, too, had to admit that their enthusiasm reminded him more of the pre-breakout concept of a camping trip than fighting for their lives. Then again, he had also seen the young man in the back seat build a flamethrower out of little more than junk, so maybe that wasn't a problem for them.

"Well, either way," Shinra says, pushing himself away from the wall, "there's nothing out here. Maybe it's time to go back. Where's Shooter?"

A ghostly neigh sounds from around the corner of the building, and a moment later the horse appears, shaking the mane on his headless neck. Celty immediately heads over to pat his shoulder and put their meager findings in the bag strung over his back.

Shinra follows as Celty starts to lead Shooter back down the street. Their footsteps echo against the empty buildings around them, and a few birds chirp from somewhere nearby, but all else is silent. Shinra busies himself with brushing the dirt and dust off the front of his white lab coat, and imagines his father's displeasure at how dirty and ragged he's let it get. It was a hand-me-down from his dad, once upon a time - but one can't carry much of a wardrobe when on the road, and it's been long enough now that it could barely be called white.

Well, Shingen will probably replace it when they get back to the city. He's a little bit of a neat freak, or at least Shinra assumes so based on his father's insistence on wearing a gas mask 24/7. Shinra is pretty certain there's nothing harmful in the atmosphere; there's never been a case of someone getting infected without being actually _touched_ , and in fact, with such a substantial drop in the number of animals and factories and functioning vehicles on earth, the air is probably much cleaner than it used to be.

Of course, when he cites himself as an example of how someone can breathe it for years and still be perfectly normal, Celty only laughs. She's so mean to him.

That reminds him, though. Straightening his tie again, he jogs up to walk beside Celty. Her helmet turns toward him almost imperceptibly.

"So are we leaving this place soon?" At her nod, he continues, "Where are we going next?" Celty only shrugs. "Because I was thinking it might be nice to head to the shore. It's been a while since I've seen the ocean. But we should probably go home and see my dad first."

Celty's shoulders droop before he even finishes the sentence, and he pats her back.

"We don't have to stay for long, it's just to check in. And maybe see about getting me some new glasses before these ones break again." He fingers the part of them held together with tape and smiles. "Besides, maybe he's made some sort of breakthrough by now!"

Celty doesn't seem convinced. Shinra can't blame her; he's been saying that every time they've gone home for the last several years, and his father's research team has barely made any progress in finding a cure, or even an antibiotic to boost resistance. As long as the zombies haven't been eliminated, there's always a risk of being turned, especially for people like them who don't stay in protected colonies and instead go wandering around the abandoned districts.

_"fine. but we're staying with your stepmom. I'm not sleeping at the lab."_

"Aww, he promised not to do any more experiments on you."

_"like I'm going to believe him!"_

Shinra shrugs. "Well, I'm always up for getting a real room with you, if that's what you want."

His not-so-hidden meaning aside, Shinra agrees with her. It doesn't matter if dullahans are more resistant to being turned or not; even if his father's unfounded theories are correct and Celty's body may hold the key to finding a vaccine, Shinra _still_ wouldn't want to share her with anyone else.

Selfish, yes, but in this world he's learned never to let go of anything he wants to keep.

Celty, of course, would be more than willing to help if she could, but as Shingen's past examinations haven't been fruitful, she's developed quite the aversion to having him try again. After all, no one knows if her body really is more resistant than anyone else's, and she's not eager to find out.

The sun is starting to set by the time they reach their hideout, and a deathly quiet settles over the street when their footsteps stop in front of the building. All things considered, it's still in plenty good shape, the walls sturdy and only a few steps missing from the stairs. It's several stories to the top, where Celty pushes open an old door with some effort, and leads the way into the single large room comprising the attic. Only a little bit of sunlight seeps in through the boarded-up windows, highlighting the dusty floor and tables in dull red until she flips on a lantern. Shinra waits for Shooter to duck his way in behind them and then sets to work barring up the door.

Once he's sure it's secure, he joins Celty on the ratty mattress in the middle of the room, sprawling out next to her and sighing.

"I really do think there's no horde here," he says. He turns on his side and props his head on his hand to watch her digging through their packs. "Maybe you'll actually get some sleep tonight?"

She pulls her notepad out from under a bag.

_"we still need to keep watch, just in case."_

Shinra frowns. "We're on the fourth floor, in a secured room, in an abandoned city. What exactly do you think is going to happen?" Even if they had seen any sign of another presence nearby, he wouldn't be that worried. Zombies are incredibly tenacious but not very imaginative, and sluggish to boot. They tend to stick to lower floors unless they have a reason to climb, and he doubts they could get in here without making enough racket to wake them up. Anyway, they're usually so slow that Celty could easily destroy them or escape before they got too close.

_"what's going to happen is that I'm not going to die here because I got complacent, and neither are you."_

Celty sets down the notepad with an air of finality and removes her helmet, setting it by the head of the mattress. The black smoke rising from her neck pools in the air for a moment before returning to its usual steady stream.

"Ah, well." Shinra shrugs. "If you're still too anxious to sleep, I can think of plenty of things we can do to pass the time until morni-"

A film of shadows snaps over his mouth, muffling the rest of his sentence. Celty's pencil scratches against the paper more harshly than before.

_"we need to rest so we can travel tomorrow. and you need to eat. here."_

She digs out a package of crackers from a bag and passes it to him. Shinra points at his mouth; the shadow gag dissolves.

As soon as his mouth is free, Shinra sighs. "It'll be nice to eat real food again. I'm tired of granola and jerky every other day. Do you think my stepmom still has any of that vintage wine she gave us last time? We should have a party while we're there," he decides, shoving a whole cracker in his mouth. Celty shrugs again and doesn't reply. Well, the wine is a lot more fun for him than it is for her.

A draft makes his hair sway, and he glances at the windows. Almost no light is shining in through the gaps between the boards anymore, but the wind gets in easily where there's no glass, sweeping through the room and dispelling some of the dust from the floor. Celty pulls a thin blanket out of their packs and spreads it over the mattress, covering both their laps.

"It'll sure be nice to sleep in a real bed again, too," Shinra notes. Celty bobs her neck forward this time. No matter how much they travel, there's a sense of security in having a room in the city, insulated from both nature and the zombies, that makes it feel like home.

Still, he goes on, "Shame to leave this place behind, though. Did you mark on it on the map? If we're ever in the area again we should come back here."

He looks around the room, taking in the bare walls and boxes piled in the corner by the low light of the lamp. The way the mattress was laid out, the windows boarded up, the furniture primed to barricade the door - it was obvious that someone else was already using this as a hideout before they got here, so it really is a perfect location. That's one thing, at least, that the colonies don't have: prime real estate entirely for free.

Of course, there's no way to tell whether the previous tenant left of their own accord or was done in by the zombies, but there's no sense in worrying about that. The previous tenant also didn't have a dullahan as a partner, he's pretty sure.

Closing the food packages, Shinra yawns and leans back against the pack serving as his pillow. For a few moments he considers going downstairs to look for some real pillows he can snatch for the night. Even if the city has been looted already, large common objects like that are never taken all at once, and some remain right where they were left. Really, you can find almost anything if you look hard enough; it's only bad luck that they haven't found much in the way of food lately.

But it's late, and Celty probably won't appreciate him unbarring the door again. It's not the worst arrangement, anyway. As long as Celty is here, he doesn't much care how hard the pillows are or how thin the blankets. He won't get cold.

Eventually Celty settles down beside him and pulls the blanket up to their chests. Immediately Shinra shifts over to wrap himself around her, nuzzling into her neck and sighing against her collar. She tenses at first, but begins to relax when Shinra presses a kiss to her sternum, and eventually slides her arms around him as well.

Tomorrow they'll have to work harder, but Shinra doesn't mind. He's perfectly content with this crazy world they live in.


End file.
